Chapter 6
Arya
That went okay.
I have to admit I lost my composure for a moment when Harrison approached me.
He’s a hockey player. For an NHL team. So is Wyatt, who was at class with Everly that day.
I don’t know why I’m so surprised. I guess it’s because I think professional athletes are all big, entitled jerks. These two guys seem pretty regular and easygoing. And yeah, they’re big, but not like a pumped-up bodybuilder.
And damn, Harrison is cute. He’s kind of a goof, but in an appealing way. His smile is big and endearing, and creases up his face into adorable dimples. I noticed how attractive he is before, but now seeing him in his own environment, he seems even more…compelling.
He’s also still flirty.
I’m struggling with this, because…I like it. But it also makes me nervous.
I stop in Gary’s office as he asked me to, to debrief.
“I think it went well,” I say, setting my bag on a chair.
“Good, good. I’ll see what the feedback is from the guys. Some of them weren’t enthused about it, but oh well.”
“I’ve had one request for more poses that work on tight hip flexors.”
“Great. What about hips? And low back? Those are areas a lot of players have tightness.”
“I’ll definitely work on those too.”
“Excellent. See you Thursday morning.”
My bike is locked up inside the arena, near the players’ entrance. The security dude jumps up to open the door for me so I can wheel it outside. “Thanks, Luis.” I give him a wave and push off to ride to Prana. I’m early for my next class there, but it’s not worth going home and I can lock up my bike and walk down to Steeps on the corner.
When I’m seated on the little patio at Steeps with my lychee peach green tea in hand, I lean back in my chair and turn my face to the sun. I’ve always loved the sun. I find the warmth on my face so soothing and relaxing, yet energizing.
I was nervous about that class, but it went fine, despite the surprise, and once again I can tell myself—I am capable of anything.
A small swell of pride surges inside me. I smile and sip my tea. Yum.
They’re also paying me damn good money to teach those classes. Not sure how I got so lucky, but I’ll take it. And now, in spite of my earlier misgivings, I want to do this. I want to do well at it. Maybe I can have some small part in making this team better. I love that idea.
I send a text to my mom. I told my parents about the opportunity after I met with Gary Jones a few days ago. Mom’s excited for me and I know she’ll want to hear about it.
I miss my parents.
But I’m doing this.
Now I just have to make sure I don’t screw things up next class.
* * *
—
I enter the Light Room on the second floor, called that because of the big, high windows on three sides of it, for my Wednesday class. The class is full, which is usual. I’ve been gratified that since I started here, my classes have become really popular. Everyone is lying quietly on their mats, arranged in neat rows. Ceiling fans twirl lazily above us.
I walk to the front of the room where my mat is already laid out. I set my water bottle on the floor against the wall and turn to the sound system to start one of my playlists. Finding great music for my classes is a fun pastime when I’m not teaching. I like lots of different sounds, and I think my music also sets me apart from other instructors.
The first song is by XXYYXX, “About You.” It has a cool, sort of laid-back lounge feel.
“We’ll begin today’s class in a Child’s Pose,” I say, sitting on my mat. Everyone sits up.
That’s when I see him. Harrison.
What the duck fuck?
I don’t let my attention linger on him, as I have a class full of people. “Bring your knees either wide or together, with your big toes touching. Press your hips to your heels and relax your forehead down.” I survey everyone as they shift into place. The soft music fills the space. “Let everything settle down, right into your mat.” I stand to move through the class, my bare feet silent on the smooth wood floor. “Also let yourself settle mentally.” I stop behind one woman and set my hands on her back, gently pushing her hips lower. “Float in your head and begin to tune into your breath.”
I pause at Harrison. His head is down, so I can’t meet his eyes. His hips are not on his heels. Swallowing a sigh, I lay my hands on his lower back and do the same for him, gently pressing down, a little more…a little more…feeling his tight hips relax somewhat. My feet are spread and braced on the floor, using my own body weight to ease his lower.
His body is big. Warm. Strong. Pulsing with energy that transfers into my hands and arms.
I imagine myself draping over him, my arms going around his body, pressing my face to his back…
Focus.
“Breathe in and out of your nose, creating that sound in the back of your throat…like the ocean.”
I move on to the woman beside Harrison.
What is he doing here?
“Keep your breath smooth and steady for the entire practice,” I say.
I slowly pace back to the front of the room and get into my own Child’s Pose, using this moment to refocus my breathing, my energy.
“Next…inhale…and come to a Tabletop, on your hands and knees.” I slowly move into position.
I continue the class, ignoring Harrison other than when he needs some adjustment of his poses.
The music changes to “World on Fire” by Louis the Child. The beat is up-tempo, the singer’s voice soft and sweet, with some piano riffs. I love this song.
We get into some more challenging poses later in the class. “Back to center,” I say.
So far, Harrison has been a model student—silent and compliant.
“Hands on your knees and breathe in.” I pause. “Then relax your head and neck down. Rise to standing. Arms float high. Exhale, palms together in front of your heart. Take a moment to close your eyes, adjust your stance, your breath….” I stroll between the mats, giving them time. Alina Baraz sings “Electric.” This song is super sexy, and I have a hard time not imagining being tangled in sheets, tangled in a man’s arms and legs, as she croons, “Kiss me.” I glance at Harrison and our eyes meet. Khalid’s raspier voice joins in the song.
I pull in a slow breath through my nose and break the eye contact.
Kiss me.
Dammit, why did I use this playlist today, with steamy songs that make me think of sex?
“Shift your weight to your left foot and bring your right foot up for Tree Pose.” My own hands are pressed together in front of my chest, and I put my weight onto my left foot. “Bring your foot to your calf or your thigh…lift your belly button…for an extra challenge you can reach up, and even look up.” Everyone lifts their arms, including Harrison, but he wobbles and touches his foot down. He resumes right away, though.
I move over to him to turn his knee more outward. “Just don’t rest your foot on your knee joint and possibly move it out of place. Lengthen your tailbone toward the floor. Press this foot against your inner thigh….” I touch his bare foot, which feels very intimate. “Resist with your left leg. Gazing at a fixed point in front of you on the floor will help with the balance.”
He smells good.
God.
I let them all hold the pose on that side, then the other, then softly tell them to lower their arms, their foot, and shake out their legs.
We move into Triangle Pose. “Feel like there’s a wall behind you, and lean into it. Nice, Stella. Find your strength.”
The only reason I’m paying more attention to Harrison is because he needs it, so I make myself move around to be sure I’m getting to everyone who needs assistance, but I
return to him to adjust his hips. I grab a yoga block for Harrison as I instruct further.
“Thanks,” he murmurs, placing his hand on the block.
“You’re welcome. Lift your right leg…stack your hips and your shoulders…”
They’re balanced on one foot and one hand. Harrison wobbles a bit again. “Reach your right arm to the sky. It’s fine if you fall, don’t worry.” I pause. Nobody falls. “Energize your fingers…flex your toes…and keep breathing.”
We end the class with Happy Baby, which is not a pretty pose. I drag my eyes away from Harrison’s rounded butt and massive thighs. Wow.
We then move into Savasana. The song playing is another featuring Alina Baraz, “Down for You,” again with a chill vibe. I like to leave people relaxed but energized. I guide them through relaxing, then I quietly leave the studio, allowing them to rest as long as they want.
In the empty teachers’ lounge, I drop onto a chair and blow out a long breath.
I was definitely distracted by Harrison’s presence, but I don’t think anyone else in the class noticed anything.
I’m done teaching for the day, so I grab my backpack. I check my cellphone for any messages. A Snapchat from Janey, a text from Taj telling me he won’t be home for dinner. So I can do whatever I want. It’s only five o’clock. I’ll jump on my bike and head to the beach.
I run down the stairs to the retail area. Hazel and Willow are working there, a few customers looking at clothing and accessories.
And Harrison is there.
He lifts his head and spots me. A smile breaks across his face. “Hi.”
I walk toward him, my heart doing a jitterbug in my chest. “Hi.”
He holds up a pair of men’s shorts. “Do you think I need these?”
I have to smile. “You have shorts.”
“Yeah, but, uh, things move around.”
I bite my lip and take the shorts from him, trying not to think about things moving around in his shorts. Gah. “These have a special liner.”
“Yeah. I think that would be good.”
“These also have flat seams, so no chafing. And they were designed by a man.”
“Good. I’ll take them.”
“We also sell underwear.” Oh God. Why did I say that? He’s not just another customer.
He grins. “I can always use more.”
I lead him over to the table with the performance boxer briefs. The image of his legs and his ass floats through my mind as I show him the garments. “The fabric is breathable and sweat wicking.”
“It’s really soft. I’ll take a three pack.” He grabs a size large.
I swallow.
The model on the front of the package is lean and muscled, but what I wouldn’t give to see Harrison wearing these briefs. Heat sweeps from my hairline down to my chest. I’m probably turning fire-engine red.
Then he says, “Oh, sorry. It looks like you’re on your way out.”
“Yes. I’m done for the day here.”
“Great! I can buy you a drink.” He moves toward the counter to pay for his items.
“Oh my God, you don’t give up, do you?”
“I wouldn’t be a professional hockey player if I gave up.”
“Why are you here?” I ask him.
“I wanted to learn more. And I wanted to see you again.”
My chest squeezes. Well, at least he’s honest. I don’t get a creepy vibe from him, but still…those words freak me out a little. “How did you know I work here?”
His forehead furrows. “Gary said it when he introduced you the other day.”
“Oh. Right.” I eye him.
He pulls out a credit card and hands it to Willow with a smile. She smiles back, clearly finding him attractive.
As do I.
Most women would be enjoying this. A gorgeous professional athlete who seems nice, if a bit goofy, who’s clearly attracted to me and is asking me out. And I’m attracted to him. I can’t deny it. But…I’m not most women.
I nibble my bottom lip. I’m so tempted to let him buy me a drink. But I’m also nervous.
I am brave.
He turns away from the counter with the brown paper shopping bag containing his purchases. “So? Where should we go?”
Okay. I’m doing it. “There’s a place a few blocks down the street…Bottles and Bites. We could meet there.”
“Okay. Sounds good. Which way?” We step out onto the sidewalk. I point toward the beach.
I push my arms through my backpack straps and move to the bike rack to unlock my bike. I’m not sure where he parked, but I’ll probably get there before him since it’s not far and he’ll need to find parking again.
Sure enough, I am there before him, but I’m just locking my bike again when he walks up. “Do you bike everywhere?”
“Pretty much.” I straighten. “I don’t have a car.”
“Huh. Really? LA is such a car city.”
“I know.”
He opens the door of Bottles and Bites and gestures for me to go in ahead of him. I walk in. I look at him when the hostess asks if we want to sit inside or outside, but he lets me decide. “Outside,” I say. “It’s a beautiful day.”
The patio is nearly full. I guess it’s happy hour. It’s shady and cool, with lots of greenery. Wooden tables and wrought iron chairs sit atop the red brick patio. We’re led to a small table in the corner. I drop my backpack on the patio and take the bench seat.
“Nice.” Harrison looks around. “I haven’t been here.”
“It’s kind of local, I guess.”
“Yeah.”
We each pick up the menu we’re handed.
“How about food?” Harrison asks. “I’m a little hungry after that workout.”
I purse my lips in a smile. “I’m sure you work out a lot harder than that.”
He grins. “Well, yeah. But seriously, I feel those moves.”
“Good.”
“Let’s get a couple of things to share,” he suggests. “What do you like?” He pauses. “You’re not vegetarian, are you?”
“What’s wrong with being vegetarian?”
“Nothing! I was just asking.” He shifts on his chair.
“I’m not. But I don’t want the octopus. I don’t care much for seafood. I guess I’m a prairie girl at heart.”
“Huh?” He tilts his head. “Okay, how about the meatballs? And crispy broccolini?”
“That sounds good.”
Our server arrives and we order drinks and food. I order a cocktail called Crimson and Clover, and he asks for a beer.
Wow. I’m on a date. I guess. My stomach does a little flip and I slide my fingers together to keep them from trembling. It’s fine. It’s totally fine.
“Prairie girl?” he asks. “You look like a typical California girl.”
“I do?”
“Yeah. Blond, tanned. Hot.”
I huff out a laugh. “Thanks.”
“Really.” He nods.
“I’m from Fargo, North Dakota.”
“Jeez. Seriously?”
“Yep.” I smile. “I moved here about a year ago.”
“Wow.”
“The blond hair comes from my Scandinavian roots. My ancestors moved to North Dakota back in the eighteen hundreds.”
“Huh. That’s cool.”
“What about you?”
“I was born here. But my family is Canadian.”
I grin. “That’s why you’re a hockey player.”
“That’s right.”
The server arrives with our drinks. This conversation is easy, so far, not awkward or painful.
I sip my drink. “Mmm.”
“What’s in that?”
“Orange juice, rosé wine, and a bunch of ot
her booze.”
He laughs.
“Want to try it?”
“Sure, if you don’t mind.” I push the glass over to him.
“Oh yeah, that is good. Okay, so how did you end up here?”
“My friend Taj lives here. I wanted to leave Fargo and he offered me a place to stay. So here I am.”
“You live with a guy?”
“Yes.” I tip my head. I’m not going to mention that Taj is gay. Yet. “We’re friends.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t seem put off by this.
I relax a little. “So, have you lived here your whole life?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “But most of it. I played college hockey in Michigan for two years. Then I got drafted by the Condors and came home to California.”
“That must have been a lot different, living in Michigan.”
“Fucking cold.” He smiles. “Like North Dakota, I guess. But I survived.”
“You’d think hockey players are used to cold. You play on ice.”
“Well, my dad grew up on the prairie, one of those guys who learned how to skate on an outside rink. They’d go out and play no matter what the weather. I have skated on outdoor rinks…when I was a kid we used to visit family in Winnipeg and Montreal. But I’m pretty spoiled by growing up in indoor arenas.”
This is interesting, hearing about his family in different places. “I’ve been to Winnipeg lots of times.”
“Yeah?” He cocks his head and his eyes crease up as he smiles at me. “I bet we were there at the same time once.”
I choke on a laugh. “Right.”
“No. I feel it.” He lays a hand on his heart.
“I guess it’s possible.”
“Undoubtedly.”
He’s entertaining, I’ll say that.
“So, you haven’t bought a car yet,” he says. “Or you don’t want one?”
“I don’t need one. Right now. It might be nice someday. Taj’s place isn’t far from the yoga studio. On Saturdays I can go with him to Makara. He owns the paddleboard place and lets me teach my classes from there.”
“Ah.”
“And he lets me use his car the odd time I need to. Biking is good for me. And better for the environment.”
For the Win Page 5